She pulled back from Charlie, her mouth falling open in disbelief, her hands shaking as they slid across his chest feeling the power pulsate from him. “What did you do?” she croaked, horror filling her mind.

His wide eyes grew less panicked as he realized she had sensed it on him. He grinned, tugging at her arms and folding her hands in his. “I made a wish, Ari.”

“What?” NO! NO! NO! This isn’t happening!

“I’m a Sorcerer now. I had to Ari.” He pulled on her hands as she tried to tug out of his hold. “I have to get that bitch that killed Mikey and this was the only way to do it.”

“No!” she cried, disbelieving he had done this to himself. “Didn’t you read that stuff about them, Charlie? This isn’t a way to get revenge for Mike. This is a way to destroy yourself!”

The screaming in her head only grew louder as her heart pounded in panic. There had to be away to fix this. There had to be? How did this happen? How did he make this happen?

About to voice the question, Ari jerked back from him as flames erupted at the bottom of her bed, and Jai dove out of the Peripatos with a look of pure fury on his face. He lunged at Charlie and Ari moved fast, putting herself between the two of them.

“What the hell did he do to you?” he yelled, completely disregarding the fact that her dad was down the hall.

Terrified by the look on Jai’s face, Ari held him back with a forceful hand pressed against his chest. She felt his own heart pounding beneath her palm and was surprised by his reaction. It occurred to her when she was recoiling in horror at Charlie’s admission she may have telepathed that horror to the one person who made her feel safe. Stupid. Stupid. Shaking her head at herself, Ari slapped her other hand against Charlie’s chest. “He made a wish.”

Rearing back at that, Jai eyed Charlie over her shoulder, his vivid gaze focusing on him, searching. When he found what Ari had, he shook his head in disgust. “You are such a dick.”

Epilogue

Moving the Players into Position

“So the rumors were true, brother?” The Gilder King asked from his place beside The Lucky King. Like The Red King and his brother of The Glass, those two were on truly friendly terms, and truly comfortable with one another because they were the only two brothers neutral in The War of the Flames.

The Red King lounged before them on his leather chaise longue, the huge fire behind him having no effect on the room’s occupants other than to add a shadowy, secretive ambience he thought fitting for the occasion. Rarely did the Jinn Kings meet with one another these days, and never all at once. But before him was a nice gathering of his brothers.

Everyone but The White King. The White King who was mad. Delusional enough to believe he could possibly be Sultan. No one had Azazil’s power. No one. And only one had the ability to manipulate Azazil. A girl… an innocent…

They all stood around his living room with its dark red painted walls and gilt-laden furniture. His taste differed from most Jinn. He liked texture and color and luxury. The cold decorative tastes of the general masses seemed in complete opposition to their fiery natures and he refused to bow to convention.

“Yeah. The White King stole the Seal and now it’s a girl. His daughter.”

The Gleaming King cursed viciously. “Why would he not tell me of this?”

The Red King grinned. Yeah, that had to sting. The Gleaming King and The Shadow King were allied with The White King. They shared bitter looks, making no effort to hide the fact that they were surprised the king they backed in the war hadn’t seen fit to confide something so important to them. He hoped it effed up that sick little “Triple Alliance”. “I guess he was playing this one close to the chest, boys. But it’s true. With the Seal of Solomon alive and kicking and literally up for grabs, the war has become a whole new ballgame.”

“Why are you telling us?” The Lucky King narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Because Azazil wished it.”

They all shared a knowing look, their lips curled in understanding. Trying not to think of Ari, or let his cocky smile falter, The Red King murmured dispassionately, “You know Father likes a good drama. You better choose your sides again, brothers. Our Father is not about to lose this one.”

Without even a ‘by your leave’, as if their minds thought as one, The Gleaming King and The Shadow King fled into the Peripatos. Ignoring the press of worry that gnawed at his chest, The Red King grinned over at The Gilder and Lucky King. “Well… in or out?”

“Still out,” they said in unison, although they couldn’t help but looked intrigued. They were of course their father’s sons. But with one last wary look, The Red King was unsurprised when they too stepped off into the Peripatos to return to their palaces to live out their lives away from the conflict.

Remaining before him was the brother who looked most like him. The Glass King. His deep, cerulean blue hair slid across his shoulders as he strode towards him. Unlike Azazil and the others, The Glass King favored stark leather vests that matched his trousers instead of colorful robes. He wore no earrings, no rings, had no tattoos. His eyes that could be mistaken for being dyed to match his hair shone fiercely out of his exotic face. He dropped to a knee, clasping his hands together, the leather cuffs around his wrists straining with his intensity. He bowed his head, his blue hair shimmering in the light from the fire as it fell over his face. Feeling less alone, The Red King placed a weary hand on his brother’s shoulder, silently asking him to lift his head. He did and they shared a long look of resignation.

The Glass King nodded in understanding, perceiving things within The Red King that none of the others ever had. His grim façade softened and he placed his own hand on The Red King’s shoulder. “How may I serve you, brother?”